by Dani René
“We’re heading to Sins,” Savvie informs me easily. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“I can’t go in there.”
“Yes, you can,” Chance tells me. “And I’m going with. We’re going to meet a man named Oliver, and from what Savvie told me, he sounds utterly delicious.” My brother already seems smitten, and he hasn’t even seen this man before.
“And why am I meeting Oliver?” I question Savannah, my eyes narrowed on her in curiosity.
She lifts her hand, blowing on the wet nails she’s been painting a bright purple. The color suits her pale skin and white-blonde hair. It’s unnaturally light, but it definitely makes her unique in every way.
Her big sapphire eyes meet mine, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Carrick will be jealous,” she says nonchalantly. “Then, he’ll make sure he claims you.”
“Savvie, I don’t want him to claim me.”
“And I don’t want Mason to marry me,” she retorts with a sad smile. I know she loves that man more than anything, and the fact that he’s still not proposed must break her heart. Perhaps he just doesn’t want to get married. The whole institution of it is old school.
Sighing, I glance at my brother, who’s smirking like a Cheshire cat. “And you’re in on this, aren’t you?” He nods, proud of the fact that he’s just blindsided his sister. “You’re both being ridiculous. I don’t want to make Carrick jealous. It’s best for us both if he moves on, and I will too.”
“Exactly,” Savannah confirms. “And when he sees you’ve moved on, he’ll wake up and realize that you two were meant to be together,”
“But—” I say, trying to stall her tirade, but she ignores me, continuing with her explanation.
“But you’ll see that you’re not meant to move on. I’ve seen you and Carrick together. There’s something there that you don’t find every day.”
“Savvie, he told me I look like his dead fiancée.” I implore her to understand why it’s so difficult for me to even consider being with him. “How do I know he’s not fucking her while he’s with me?”
She considers my question for a moment before she responds. “Because Carrick may be an asshole, but this is not something he can hide from either Mason or me. If my man says Rick is in love with you, I believe him.”
Her words settle on my heart, calming my erratic heartbeat. Can I give him a chance? Will he be able to put his ex behind him and really be with me?
“Fine. But when this blows up, then it’s on you,” I tell her. “And you,” I admonish Chance.
“Hey, I just want to see my sister happy.” My brother hugs me. His body is warm, safe, and I just for a moment allow myself to believe everything will be okay. Nothing is ever confirmed. There are times I have doubted myself, until Carrick, but I can’t let him be the deciding factor in my happiness. I need to move on.
“Are we ready?” Savvie says, rising from the bed with her purple dress matching her nails.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I’ve been ready for far too long,” Chance utters with a naughty smile on his face, and I know he’s going to be in his element with all the handsome men who frequent Sins.
We head to the door, and for the first time in days, I smile as I lock up the apartment and follow my brother and my best friend. Tonight, I may not be with anyone, but I’ll allow myself to have some fun.
Stepping into Seven Sins has my heart racing a million miles a minute. I don’t see him, but it doesn’t stop my eyes from seeking him out. Wanting to find those golden eyes. Needing to see his handsome face, that smirk that melts my panties, and the voice that seems to light every nerve in my body.
“Oli,” Savannah purrs when she reaches an older man seated at the bar. He’s probably in his mid-forties from the light gray that peppers his black hair. His eyes are the color of steel, a shiny gray that looks right through me when his gaze lands on me.
“Savvie.” He smiles, knocking the breath from my lungs. Yes, he’s handsome. He looks like he’s been carved from marble. Perfect angular jaw, sharp features. Dressed in a suit that’s a deep blue; so dark it’s almost black, but when the light hits it the right way, I notice the tinge of blue. He pulls Savannah into a hug, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“And who are your beautiful friends?” he questions, flitting his eyes between Chance and me. There’s a curiosity in his expression as he regards us both.
“This is my best friend, Peyton,” she gushes as she pulls me closer. I feel out of my depth for the first time in a long while. Carrick always made me feel so comfortable, whereas Oliver seems to be too experienced to even give me a second glance. And as I think that, he leans in and brushes his lips over my cheek.
“Hello, sweet Kitten,” he utters my nickname. I gasp as he steps back. “I know of you,” he tells me, and I realize Carrick must have spoken to him already. But why? “And this?” Oliver’s stare lands on Chance.
“This is Peyton’s brother, Chance Moore.”
My brother holds out his hand, but Oliver doesn’t take it. Instead, he tips his head to the side, watching Chance with a curious stare. I’m about to say something when he grips the back of my brother’s neck, pulling him closer. The show of dominance has a few of the people surrounding us watching in awe.
His mouth lingers inches from Chance’s, and I’m sure my brother is going to pass out from the shock of it all. Oliver’s tongue flicks out, trailing over Chance’s lips. “He’s delicious,” Oliver utters with a smirk. “Do you play?” he asks.
“No, I’ve never—”
“Perfect. I do love to train,” the older man confirms with a satisfied smile. “If you’d be up for a scene, I’d love to have you along with someone else I’ve picked for the evening to join me."
“Yes. Yes, I’d love to.” I gape at my brother’s eagerness.
“It’s settled. Peyton and I will watch a show while you two get acquainted.” Savvie grips my arm, but Oliver stops her.
“No, I want Peyton in the toy room. Now.” There’s no denying this man. He pierces me with a confident stare. “Unless she’s scared?” He’s trying to goad me. I’m not scared. Far from it. His display has only solidified that I want to see what he’s capable of.
A giggle from the corner booth distracts me for a moment. My eyes find Rick. He’s sitting with another man. They’re deep in conversation, but it’s not the way he’s laughing that makes me decide to go with Oliver. It’s the woman perched on his lap. He’s not touching her. But she’s practically one with him the way she’s draped herself over him.
His golden eyes land on mine in an instant. As if he can feel me. We’re no longer together. We broke up, but it still stings. He smiles. Then turns back to his conversation.
“I’m not scared. Let’s go,” I finally confirm, hooking my arm through Oliver’s. As we walk toward the back of the club, I feel him looking. His gaze always burned through me, and this time it’s no different. This time, he’s practically setting me alight with fury, and I smile as I’m led away by Oliver.
When we reach the room, the door is open, and Oliver allows me to step inside first. He follows, shutting the door behind us. The room is decked in black leather furniture, a spanking bench, and a four-poster bed. One wall is covered in toys that make fear trickle through me.
“What are you doing here?” he questions once we’re alone.
I frown, meeting his inquisitive gaze. “What do you mean?” He settles on the sofa, watching me intently before he pats his knee. I take that as a silent command to sit on his lap. I take a step toward him, and he shakes his head.
“Crawl.” My mouth drops open in shock. “Now.” Dropping to my knees, I feel the cool concrete floor bite into my flesh. I crawl like a kitten on all fours to Oliver. “Head here,” he tells me, and I obey, placing my hand on his knee, almost curling up between his legs like a pet would do.
He falls silent, his hand stroking my sleek blonde hair. It’s gentle, sweet, and lovin
g. I want to ask him what he’s doing, but I hold my tongue. If he doesn’t allow me to speak, I know to keep my mouth shut.
“Tell me, Peyton,” he starts. “You came here tonight to play with someone?”
“Yes, Oliver,” I respond.
He hums his approval, gripping the hair at the nape of my neck, he pulls me up until I’m inches from his face. He trails his nose up my neck slowly. He’s not touched me in any sexual way, but my body has already been lit from the inside out.
“You like the darker side of this, don’t you? You’re a little masochist. Oh, I would have such fun with you. Too bad you’re already claimed.” He releases me, causing me to fall to the floor.
“What? I’m not claimed,” I retort hotly, which causes him to chuckle.
“Feisty too. No wonder he’s so enamored,” he tells me, and I realize he’s talking about Carrick.
Sitting up, I fold my arms in front of my chest. My eyes pin him with a confused stare. Anger races through my blood at the mention of Carrick laying any claim to me. “I’m not his. We are not together.”
“Sweetheart, he’s laid his claim. Any man in this club would be stupid to touch you.”
“You brought me in here,” I tell him. Confused at what he means. How can Carrick lay claim to me when I’m not with him anymore?
“I did. But I’m not afraid of Carrick O'Leary,” he tells me, using Carrick’s real name. “I know everything there is to know about any Dominant in this city. Most of them I’ve trained. I’ve even set them up with their submissives.”
“Like Mason?”
“Mason, Nathan, who I don’t think you’ve met, and of course there’s Elijah.” The last two men I don’t know, but this intrigues me.
“So, you train subs and Dominants?”
“I do. There’s a satisfaction in it for me. I love seeing someone come into their own. Find their sexuality. For a long time, Rick was like me. He took girls in, showed them there’s more to life than being abused. Eva, one of his dear friends, as well as a pretty little sub called Gia. Both those girls are now with Rick’s friends.”
“With his friends? How can they do that?” I’m confused. More so than I was days ago. Nothing makes sense. The Carrick he’s talking about sounds like a stranger to me.
“You see, Carrick loves to save those in need. Eva was his first. She loved him too much. She’s with Nate now. And Gia, she was one of the girls who stumbled upon the club. And she found her Dominant, who’s Elijah.”
“And Rick helped them?” He nods.
“I wanted to bring you in here to tell you he’s not a bad man. He may have done bad things, but . . .” His words trail off, and he rises. “You’re beautiful. Stand,” he commands. I obey.
“Thank you,” I say. I’m not sure why I’m thanking him, but I do.
“Look after yourself. I really would’ve loved to play with you, but I have two eager toys waiting for me.” He smiles. It’s breathtaking.
“Are you going to . . .? I mean, my brother—”
“He’s safe. He and the pretty little sub, Leigh, will be mine to play with.”
“Cayleigh? Rick’s sister?” I gasp in shock. Oliver nods a confirmation. “And he is allowing you to be with his sister?”
“You’re a sweet girl. Rick doesn’t allow anything. She came to me. I train those who want it. I don’t take what isn’t mine.” He leans in, lingering against my ear before continuing, “Even though I’d so much want to see your porcelain skin bleed as I whip you.”
My mind is reeling at his words. “What?”
“I’m a sadist. I enjoy delivering pain.”
“Don’t hurt—” He places his fingers on my lips to silence me.
“Go now. Before I can’t help fucking your pretty little throat.” He releases me, walks me to the door. “Take care of yourself, Peyton.” Then the door shuts behind me, leaving me in the dimly light hallway. Before I have time to think, I’m being dragged into another room and shoved inside.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Carrick bites out through clenched teeth. His jaw ticks with fury, and I can’t help flinching at his words. He sounds livid. Pure rage vibrates through his body, causing me to shut my mouth. This isn’t how this night was meant to go. He wasn’t meant to be angry at me. As soon as I walked in and saw him with another woman, I figured we’d moved on.
“You have no right to be angry, Rick,” I retort. “He . . . I mean, this is ridiculous. Oliver was lovely, caring, and I enjoyed the scene,” I lie. There was no scene, but he doesn’t need to know that. “You pushed me away by having some other little slut on your lap, Carrick.” The crack in my voice breaks. It scratches along my throat like a raw wound, and I know nothing else can mend it but Carrick.
As I stalk toward him, I meet his gaze, which burns into me, setting me ablaze. This man has such power over me, but I have some over him too. I see it in his expression. As much as I want to deny it, I can’t because I love him. My heart breaks, but I can’t be with him after he’s fucked someone else.
“You made me feel . . .” My words trickle into nothing. The emptiness where my heart had been ripped so violently from me is now filled with one man. With the one before me who’s pushed me away. In the years I spent with Michael, I never ached. I never felt like the air was too thick to breathe. And I never saw a forever.
“You weren’t meant to love me, Peyton,” Carrick says. The pained emotion that flickers in his golden eyes makes me want to crawl to him. To give him all of me. Because as much as I guarded myself from him, nothing can dissipate my feelings.
“There are times you can’t rule your heart, Sir.” The affection he holds so close to his chest dances in his eyes at my words. “When you finally let go of the past and allow the happiness you’re meant to have into your life, give me a call. But Carrick”—I lean up, pressing a kiss to his stubble cheek—“don’t for one second believe I had a choice in loving you, because you made it impossible not to.”
I turn and head toward the door of the room he’s shoved me into and twist the doorknob. The sound seems to echo around me. It’s deafening in the silence. When it shuts behind me, I blink, allowing the tears to fall.
I wanted him to follow me. To stop me from leaving, but he doesn’t. My heart breaks all over again. How many times am I going to allow him to do this to me? I can’t. Inhaling a deep breath, I escape the club and go home. I need time.
17
Carrick
Peyton walked out three days ago. Nothing prepared me for it. It’s for the best. She shouldn’t be near me. I’ll only hurt her. My life was meant to be lived alone. I learned that from a very early age. My father never lied to me. He never gave me empty promises and told me one day I’d be able to have a family.
Even after walking out and leaving my family behind, I can never leave this life. I know that now. My office door swings open, and Callan saunters in with a grin on his face.
“What?” I question, sitting back in my office chair.
“There’s a redhead downstairs I’ve been chatting up,” he tells me. He’s a flirt. My brother is worse than me. His dick is perpetually wet.
“I didn’t allow you into my club to fuck everything with tits, Cal,” I huff, shoving the paperwork over the desk toward him.
He chuckles as he lifts the folder from the wooden top. “Not my fault my brother has so many delicious little cunts walking around.”
“Jesus, would you have some respect, man?” I bite out. Rising from the chair, I make my way over to the bar. With a quick glance downstairs, I notice Savvie and Peyton sitting at one of the booths. They’re leaning in, a heated conversation, and I wonder what they’re talking about. As if she can feel my eyes on her, Peyton’s jade eyes lift to the window. Even though this is one-way glass, I know she sees me. Knows I’m here watching her.
“You stalkin’ the lil blondie?” Callan’s voice comes from behind me, and I shake my head.
Grabbing two crystal tumblers,
I pour a three-finger-deep shot in each of the Scotch Leigh brought me as a gift. Setting one down for Cal, I take a swig of mine.
“She’s into you,” my brother tells me.
“Don’t you think I know that?” I’m angry, frustrated. Running my fingers through my hair for the millionth time today, I recall how she walked out, and also why she walked out. Because I told her to. I gave her the out. Forced it on her.
All the women in my life have come and gone without so much as a blink of my eye. I could so easily turn and find another. I’ve indulged in countless scenes, with countless women, but somehow, Peyton has turned my world upside down.
“Rick, you’re allowed to be happy, you know,” Callan tells me. He gulps his drink, and I watch in silence as he pours another. His words are shot directly at my heart. “She’s not here anymore. You can’t keep living in the past,” he says, not looking at me.
I cast a glance down to the club and notice a man in an expensive suit talking to Peyton. My blood burns with jealousy so profuse I can’t breathe.
“There comes a time when you need to stop and think, what would happen if that asshole” --my brother gestures with his tumbler at the man I’m shooting daggers at-- “takes her to a room at the back, gives her all she craves and more? Do you think he’ll push her away because of his own stupidity?”
“Fuck you, Callan.” There are times over the years my brother has pissed me off. Since we were younger, he’s been there, giving me advice. And even though he’s older, I’ve never really listened to him. We fight, we laugh, we drink. The two O’Leary boys have been a force to be reckoned with. “Why do you always have to—”
“Be right?” he interrupts, finishing my question. “Tell me, Rick. Would Rory want you to be angry at the world all the time? Would she want you to be living in the past?”
“I’m not angry at the world, Cal. I’m angry she’s gone. That one man took her from me.” The raw honesty in my tone is enough to have my throat burning. Fighting with him is second nature. I’ve never been one to appease my brother, but he’s never allowed me to wallow, which is why I respect him. He’s given me more than I can ask for, been there for me when I needed him most, and now I feel like an asshole for arguing about this.
